


split.

by DictionaryWrites



Series: ☀️☀️☀️ Prompt Minifills [16]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Blood, Corporal Punishment, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mild Gore, Power Dynamics, Punishment, Spanking, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 20:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15155111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Contrast between a spanking for fun, and a spanking for punishment.





	split.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: ☀️ Can I have Frostmaster + difference between fun spanking and punishment spanking? I love when writers do that, like, there's a whole different vibe between the two

The first time the Grandmaster spanks him, it is with Loki over his lap, sprawled on the couch with the skirts of his robes hiked up to his hips, and Loki is groaning. His palm comes down  _hard_  against his buttocks, hard enough that his skin sings for the heated pain and all his blood rushes downward and into his cunt, makes him wriggle in his place. 

“You like pain, huh, honey?” the Grandmaster purrs, sounding anything but displeased, and Loki moans as the next smack hands against the fat mound of his quim, agony bursting within him and making his cunt clench. He is so wet he’s  _sloppy_  with it, feels it shine on his thighs and drip down over his cock, and the pain in his quim makes desperate pleasure coil hot within his belly, leaves him tense and tight as a new spring.

“Yeah,” Loki mumbles against his own forearm. The Grandmaster’s hands - one smacking him, one loosely settled on the small of his back - are warm and strong and beautiful, and Loki feels like he could die happily beneath their touch. Maybe he will. “I like– Yes.”

“So pretty,” the Grandmaster murmurs, and with the next blow, hard against his cunt and making his skin sear in awful, awful pain - in terrible, terrible pleasure - Loki is thrown hard over the edge of ecstasy. 

                                                             —

The last time is anything but pleasurable.

Loki is bent over a table, his hands flat against the glass, his expression set into quiet melancholy. The Grandmaster stands in front of him, his lips pressed tight together, his expression terribly impassive: his arms are crossed over his chest, and it is  _terrifying_. This is so much worse than fury, or anger, or shouting - this is true rage, ancient and ineffable, and Loki understands, on a quietly frightening level, that he will not die here. 

The Grandmaster is too angry to kill him.

The hand comes down again, for the second time, a hand made of  _stone_ , and Loki wails as the Kronan’s blow breaks skin. He feels the flesh at his arse  _burst_  at the force, the skin splitting, and lilac blood seeps freezing cold down the inside of Loki’s thigh in a slow, thick trickle.

“You think that’s enough?” the Grandmaster asks softly, in barely more than a whisper. “You think that’s, uh, enough of a punishment yet, Lo-Lo? For  _betraying_  me?”

“No, Grandmaster,” Loki whispers.

“Aw, see, he’s… He might be  _bad_ , but he’s definitely  _smart_. Hit him again, Gorta,” On the next blow, Loki cries. On the ninth, Loki’s knees buckle, and he falls flat upon the table, scrabbling at the glass to keep himself from falling onto the ground. His blood is a thick pool at his feet, staining his legs, and he is trembling, trembling. On the twentieth blow, Loki’s vision becomes hazy at the edges, and he can feel the awful mess of his backside and his thighs, the blood, the  _muscle_  bared to the too-hot air, the unconquerable agony of it all.

He is unconscious before the twenty-second blow lands. 

                                                     —

“All forgotten now, honey,” the Grandmaster purrs in his ear, and Loki shivers. He cannot sit down, not yet - he won’t be able to sit down for days, although the outer tears and breaks in the flesh are quite healed, he is more bruise than body. “You’re back now, huh? You’re mine.”

“Yours, Grandmaster,” Loki echoes, and he tips back his head as he feels the collar click into place around his neck. 

**Author's Note:**

> Put a ☀️ and a prompt in my ask for a minifill! 
> 
> [Hit me up](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.


End file.
